


Something Beautiful, or Something Like That

by Bazoops



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-07 09:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20307412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bazoops/pseuds/Bazoops
Summary: When it appears one morning, Evie doesn't need to ask what the mark means, she has seen what it brings a few times before.Two people destined to meet with marks to show where their soulmate would touch them first. She had seen it once or twice. Two people with matching black spots on their palms, simply shaking hands as they would with any other. And yet, it became more as their fated timelines coming to join together through just one touch.So, yeah. She knew what it meant.But why the fuck did hers have to be right in the middle of her fucking face??





	1. Chapter 1

Evie was always fascinated by love.

Love was invisible, but you could sense it in someone. You couldn’t touch it, but you could sure as hell feel it. 

It was poetic - kind of.

Of course, only a fool would see love as solely beautiful. Evie was no fool.

Love could make even the most incredible soul break under its pressure.

Evie loved her parents. She knew they loved her too, in their own special way. But as two people without soulmarks, her parents spent all their energy fighting a twenty year battle against all odds.

It turned out to be a fight that neither one of them could win.

In the middle of the night, just four hours away from Evie’s eleventh birthday, her father left.

Yet, Evie knew deep in her heart that her parents loved her.

Even as she would come to watch her mother become bitter and callous. She would watch it day by day, year by year and know exactly why. She would cross holidays and birthdays off the calendar and come to accept the fact that her father wasn’t coming back.

Gradually, her mother began raising her expectations of Evie. She began teaching her little girl to be focused on her appearance, perfecting and accentuating her looks. She wouldn’t stand for poor posture or improper manners. Evie was to be the picture of beauty and grace, at all times.

“You’ll never keep a man looking like that, Evelyn. Look at your shoulders, they are like a hunchback’s,” her mother would only pause to shake her head, “Keep your chin up. I swear, Evelyn. You should know I often wonder whether I truly bore a daughter or a son. Why do I even bother with you?”

It hurt Evie to hear her mother’s taunts. They felt etched in her skin; they made her feel the need to scrub each and every inch of her skin raw, as though that would wash away the way her words stung. 

So Evie learned to always listen, no matter how ridiculous the request. She adapted and grew, even though she knew that her mother’s expectations would only continue to grow and exceed any possible chance of achieval. 

Evie became a master of many talents. She could paint and cover her skin perfectly; her mother would swear it was the only way she would possibly keep anyone’s attention, let alone their affection.

She learned to smile and laugh at any and all crude and demeaning comments thrown her way.

“A girl who makes a fuss, is a girl who ends up alone,” her mother would hiss. “You don’t want to be alone, do you Evelyn?”

Her mother was right. Evie didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want to be left. 

She swore that her mother loved her, in her own special way. 

Why else would she bother?

Evie didn’t dare to ask her mother about soulmarks. It didn’t matter that when it came time for her to begin her sixth grade year, it was all any of the other girls wanted to talk about. Nor did it matter that so many of her peers began receiving theirs and sharing them off all throughout her freshman and sophomore years. 

She found that she didn’t even need to ask. Instead, she got to witness it first hand. 

It was odd that her and a few of her classmates first time seeing two soulmates meet would be at quite possibly one at one of the most imperfect times. 

A new student, a transfer from a different state, was joining her creative writing class. He was maybe eighteen or so. Being that there were a few seniors in the class, it wouldn’t have surprised anyone if he was. 

Mr. Allen, her teacher, was also a fresh and new face that year. All of the students, Evie included, appreciated his fresh and understanding perspective. It made it helpful when writing and addressing on current hot topics, some especially controversial and close to home. Without worrying about the impact of prior conservative teachers, they could put their all into their assignments with genuine passion for their work.

It was very common for individuals to have soulmarks on their hands. Almost everybody shakes hands when first meeting someone, so it made perfect sense that somebody’s first touch with their soulmate could be from a handshake.

Because of this, nobody thought twice about the fact that both their teacher and the new student had matching black marks covering their palms. 

Until they actually shook hands, that is.

A hush fell over the room as they all watched the pair’s marks began to glow a warm, rosey hue. It was a beautiful sight, one that most of them had not had the chance to witness yet in their lives. However, in the eerie silence of the classroom, the moment felt stiff and speculated. Suddenly, the glow dimmed lower and lower before disappearing entirely, their marks now absent where they had previously stood out. 

Needless to say, Evie didn’t see either of them again after that day. A replacement was found within two weeks of substitution and like all stories, it faded with time into the slot of old news. 

It wasn’t until the middle of her Junior year that Evie’s mark appeared. That morning, she stood in her bathroom, frozen by her reflection.

It wasn’t the dark circles under her eyes that startled her. She had become well accustomed to sleepless nights spent tossing and turning over whatever latest disappointment she had brought her mother. 

The thing that truly struck Evie to her core was the deep, dark hand shaped mark that now resided on her cheek. It was so dark that, just for a moment, she thought that if she were to touch it, her hand would surely disappear into her own skin. Of course, that was ridiculous. She knew that wouldn’t happen. Though, it was impossible not to let her mind run rampant as she stared at it. 

Suddenly, a realization hit her, hard and unforgiving.

Evie’s mother was never the most patient woman. As her mother’s daughter, Evie knew the feeling of an anger induced slap here and there. 

So Evie knew how to put two and two together.

Her mark was on her cheek.

Her soulmate was going to slap her.

She wasn’t sure when her legs gave out on her. She couldn’t tell if it was before or after the tears began to flow; big hot tears down her cheeks, over her mark, and onto her shirt.

Of course she would be fated to meet her soulmate through a harsh and cold introduction fueled by violence. It only made sense, Evie supposed. Her parents had tried to beat fate, and they had failed. Why should she get a perfect happy ending?


	2. Chapter 2

Mal had come to terms with the fact that she would never fall in love, even if she did have a soulmate. It wasn’t in the books for her and she didn’t want it. 

Why would she?

Everyone watched those sickeningly sweet romantic movies where the guy meets the girl, and even though he didn’t know it at first, she was the one for him, his soulmate. She never fought the urge to roll her eyes when the ending was inevitably a scene of them acting so shocked that they had matching soulmarks. 

Matching soulmarks. How predictable.

Of course, in the real world, Mal knew it wasn’t matching soulmarks that identified who you were meant to spend the rest of your life with.

It was soulmarks, yes, but they might as well have been known as soultargets. 

Black marks that slightly resembled hands; marks that told where your soulmate would first touch you. 

Considering the fact that Mal had a black mark on her hand, her solution to staying as far away from love as possible was simple.

She would never shake, high five, or hold anyone’s hand. She wouldn’t touch anybody. It wouldn’t be hard considering she hated being even remotely close to the majority of people she came across. 

It wasn’t the predictableness of love that turned Mal away. No, it was the unrealistic perfect happy ending that society coined with soulmates. Eighteen years in and out of strangers' houses had taught her that the world wouldn’t lend her a helping hand for anything, so there was no way in hell that she would lend a loving one to some random person she’s never met. 

Jay, a fellow “troubled teen” that she had met in a half-way house at the tender age of twelve, was the closest that Mal could come to loving someone. They had both suffered through believing there was no place in the world for them, as though they were a mistake that would inevitably be sorted out from the rightfully indowed that were actually meant for true love and happy endings. He understood, just like Mal, that soulmates was a bitter concept to a person that had nothing to their name. 

And yet - they both had marks.

Jay’s was on his leg, just above his knee. Something that Mal had made fun of relentlessly from the day that it appeared. 

“Yeah, whatever, Dragon face,” he would playfully sneer. “At least mine isn’t in the most basic spot possible. I’m unique and you are a normo. A plain piece of toast just like all those other normies you seem to hate so much.”

Mal would snort at his theatrics, but of course she had thought about the truth to his words every now and again. She did have a commonly placed mark, which made it all the more risky for her when interacting with others. Jay didn’t have to worry so much, not that he did in the first place. Despite everything they had dealt with, Jay never once talked down on the concept of meeting his soulmate. In fact, if Mal had to guess, she would assume that he was actually more than ready to meet them.

“Honestly, I just hope they can deal with all of this,” Jay would say, wiggling his eyebrows and flexing his arms.

“And by that you mean all of your bullshit?”

When they turned eighteen, Mal and Jay no longer had to deal with anyone stepping in and moving them from place to place. The first few months had been rougher on them than either would give way. Eventually they each secured themselves with jobs at a local restaurant, La Luna. Jay had somehow managed to finagle himself a position working under the head Chef and owner’s daughter, Uma Luna. In turn, he had gotten Mal a leg in the door, and she was hired on as a bartender only a few days after. Between the two of them, they were able to split the cost of a minuscule two bedroom apartment. Despite its size, the place was the first safe haven either of them had ever really known. 

“I think we should throw a party,”

Mal turned to Jay as they sat on their Goodwill couch, neither one of them having work for the day. It was often they found themselves together in said spot. They would either through the channels of their TV that had been left from the prior tenants, or Mal would try and work on a piece in her sketchbook while Jay all but deafened her from his drum set. 

“A party? What, did Uma put the thought in your head that we need a bunch of drunk people in our apartment?”

He scoffed at her, rolling her eyes and readjusting in his seat. 

Mal would take that as a yes.

“No, she didn’t. She just mentioned that she had a couple of friends that were looking to loosen up before some finals thing or whatever,”

“So what you’re saying is,” Mal started, always one to take credit for being right when said credit was due, “Uma did put the thought in your head, and now you want to throw a party with her and her friends?”

Jay, Mal, and Uma had a very competitive hierarchy among the three of them. More so between Jay and Uma, as Mal had a tendency to not take their constant baiting.

Regardless, they were always trying to best each other. Whether it was playing chicken with barely screwed together bikes from the alley next to La Luna, or trying to test each others’ spines with all sorts of questionable dares. 

So it made sense that if Uma had mentioned a party, Jay was really just bringing it up as a formality and it was definitely already happening. And as she looked away from her sketchbook and over to Jay, she could tell from his expression that she was right. Again.

“When should I be expecting the hoard?”

“Tonight at 8:00,”

“And you are telling me because you need me to do something?”

Jay gasped and placed a hand over his heart, a faux act of hurt.

“Oh Malie, c’mon now. Can’t a guy just let his friend know what’s going on every now and then?”

He dropped the act, instead letting out a cackle when she raised her sketchbook as though to hit him over the head.

“Okay, you got me. I need you to go with Uma to do the beer run while I make a run for pizza and snacks,”

Mal wasn’t surprised that Jay did, in fact, need something. But that didn’t stop her from swatting him on the arm with her sketchbook. The action proved to be in vain, as he caught the book with two hands and promptly moved away from the couch with it, practically dancing away from her as she chased after it. 

“I can’t believe you volunteered me to go with that sea witch to get your booze and you’re just now telling me about it,” she huffed at him when he relented and gave her back her book. “You can’t blame me if she ends up not showing because I finally offed her.” 

“You know you’d be bored without her spicing things up with her unique Uma flare,” Jay accented with a quick ruffle of Mal’s hair, withdrawing his hand before she could drag him down and try for round two with her sketchbook. 

A knock sounded through the apartment from the door, sending Jay skipping over to let their guest in. Uma all but beat him into opening it with the way she waltzed in the second his hand turned the knob. 

“You ready to go, Dragon Breath?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two!! I was really happy to lay out and establish Jay & Mal's sibling-like relationship in this part. I wanted to make sure and provide at least a little back story to the characters before I got into Mal & Evie. I am going to change the tags so people can see that this will be a medium-ish burn, but I wanted to put it in this note as well. I also just posted the first chapter to another piece I am working on, "Mac & Cheese" and I hope you will check it out too! I have loved reading the comments on this work so far, they have been so kind and I am so thankful for them!! It is so neat for me to see your interaction with my story, all of your feedback is really appreciated so much :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first AO3 piece, and I am very excited about it! I have previously written on Wattpad but I am truly thrilled to be on here, as it is where the majority of my favorite stories live. I just watched Descendants 3 about two weeks ago and I haven't been able to get this story off my mind! So, I wanted to come on here and lay it to the page/screen. I absolutely adore the series, and I cannot stress how lovely I think these two characters are together. I am thinking there will be about three chapters, but I am not sure yet! I hope you enjoy the story I have to tell :)


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